


Anxiety

by whatinthehelliot



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Brotp, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Social Anxiety, no mark does not magically cure it, yes this is an au where jack has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7656961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatinthehelliot/pseuds/whatinthehelliot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has anxiety and self-confidence issues. Mark is a good friend with a big heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insecurity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this out of spite because mental illnesses aren't represented properly in fics... Anything to motivate you to write, right? xD

Jack rolled his shoulders before sitting back in his chair, watching the upload bar slowly rise on the web page. He took a deep breath in and let it out, trying to relax his tense muscles. Sometimes he wondered if his fans ever noticed his tension. He'd been doing YouTube for years, yet recording didn't get any easier. After a couple of minutes of staring at the screen, he decided to get up and make himself some tea.

Strolling into the kitchen, he grabbed the kettle and filled it with water before turning it on to boil. Proceeding to the cupboard, he took out a mug and got his favourite tea, placing the tea bag in the cup. Following the boiling of the kettle, he made his tea and waited for it to draw, pacing back and forth his kitchen anxiously.

He stopped in place when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Getting it out, he turned on the screen to reveal a text notification from Mark.

_"hey buddy"_

Jack couldn't help but snort at the vagueness of it. He swiped across the screen and clicked on the notification, marking the message as read.

**_"whats up markimoo"_**

The next text didn't come for a few minutes, giving Jack time to put some sugar and milk in his tea. He had just set it down on the coffee table in the living room when he felt his phone buzz again.

_"just bored editing a video thought id check in with you"_

He sat down on the couch before he texted him back.

**_"im uploading a video right now should be done by next week"_**

_"pfff aint that the truth"_

He smiled as he closed the conversation, instead opting to look at comments on his newest video.

"man I love when Jack plays games like these with actual plot to them"

"Did anyone notice the text at 11:13 omg"

His swiping stopped as he came across the next one.

"god his voice is so annoying i cant even listen to the dialogue because he keeps talking over it"

Jack swallowed thickly and swiped up to the video and pressed play, wondering if he did talk over it too much. Maybe he needed to tone down his excitement, he knew he could be overbearing.

He bounced his leg up and down nervously as he kept watching the video and felt his muscles tense up. Pausing the video, he took a deep breath and decided to ignore it and watch some Game Grumps instead. After finding the next part of a playthrough he'd been watching, he put it on the Chromecast and let himself get lost in their antics.

After taking a long moment to settle his nerves, he decided to get out to play some Pokemon Go. Sure, he didn't really like being out by himself, but maybe it'd be better this time.

He pulled on a coat and tied up his shoes before setting off. It was a rather nice day, quite sunny despite it being the middle of winter. He whipped out his phone, opening the app before looking to see if there were any Pokemon around. The latest update had taken away the tracking system, which was a big pain in the ass.

While looking down at his phone, he nearly bumped into someone and they gave him a look of disdain while he apologized profusely. He swallowed, feeling his heart start to speed up. Not a big deal, Jackaboy, not a big deal. He pressed forward - making note to look up more often - and came across an Eevee.

"Aw nice, an Eevee!" he said excitedly, being careful to not be too loud about it. He continued on his walk, coming across a Gym that Valor had taken over. He battled the gym, dealing the finishing blow with his Golduck. Without thinking about it, he was so caught up in his accomplishment that he'd fist pumped the air. A couple of passersby glanced at him strangely.

Laughing nervously, he found himself scratching the back of his head with his hand as he hung his head, trying to make himself smaller. He continued on his Pokemon journey, nonetheless, and arrived home roughly an hour later, feeling incredibly drained. When he was out he was constantly on edge, and when your body is tensed up for that long, it makes you very tired.

He allowed the tension to leave him as he flopped down on the couch, staying there for god knows how long. This was only broken by another buzz in his pocket. He groaned, knowing he had to look at it, but not really wanting to just yet. After a couple of minutes of internally debating it with himself, he hauled himself up from the couch and into a sitting position.

_“you excited for the con? :D :D :D”_

He snorted. Typical Mark.

**_“i dont know sounds a bit boring walking around with you goobers all day”_**

_“your words wound me :'(”_

He rolled his eyes and went back to his room, turning on the screen to check the upload’s progress. It had only just finished processing. He leaned back, looking in the general direction of the ceiling as he sighed loudly.

“Fuckin’ Irish internet,” he grumbled. Looking down at his phone, he typed out another message.

**_“why is irish internet so sloowwwww”_**

_“awww poor jackaboy”_

**_“i dont know if its gonna be uploaded in time”_**

_“eh its fine im late all the time”_

**_“yeah but youre markiplier”_**

_“so?”_

Jack started at the two-letter word for a while. It brought up subjects he didn’t want to dwell on, so he changed topics.

**_“how goes the editing”_**

_“i had to get matt to help me so its going faster now :D”_

They exchanged texts back and forth for a while but stopped when Mark texted him that he got a new video notification from him. Finally. He watched the video in its entirety just to triple-check that there were no errors or bad cuts. The further he got, the blander his commentary seemed.

**_“hey mark have you watched it”_**

_“yeah”_

**_“does it seem bland to you”_**

_“no why?”_

**_“dont worry about it”_**

There he goes again, dodging the bullet again. Though of course, Mark can’t just leave it alone, can he?

_“no really whats up”_

**_“its nothing dont worry”_**

_“im already worrying”_

Jack sighed exasperatedly, chewing on his lip. He didn’t reply, he couldn’t. He was afraid of what he might say.

_“jack i know youre still there”_

Of course, he knew, the conversation tab was still up, so every message was ‘read.’ He closed out of it and started playing some jams. That worked for a couple of minutes until Mark video called him on Skype.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack cursed under his breath. There was no escaping this man, was there? Stupid Mark and his stupid big heart. He let it ring for a moment, brushing a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look less messy than usual. After taking a long, deep breath, he hit accept.

“Jack,” Mark’s voice filtered into his ears instantly, soothing with a touch of worry to it. Jack felt his throat close up, the conversation feeling so much more real. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want Mark prying into his insecurities.

“Hi Mark,” he replied, trying to keep his voice even.

“What’s wrong?” his friend cooed, tilting his head to the side. The Irishman felt his resolve start to crumble.

“It’s nothing, I told you that already,” Jack joked, throwing in a short laugh for good measure. He watched Mark’s chest rise and fall in a heavy sigh.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” Mark warned. Jack locked gazes with him just to tear his eyes away moments later.

“It’s fine, honestly,” Jack felt the words come out naturally like they always had his whole life. Lying about this sort of thing was second-nature to him at this point.

“Jack,” his voice had more bite to it, obviously frustrated.  
“It’s-”

“It’s not fine. Tell me what’s wrong,” he interrupted. Jack looked down at his feet.

“It’s just… Me being stupid,” Jack mumbled, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Mark reassured.

“Just... It’s not one thing, it’s many things at once. It’s me, it’s because I don’t respond like I should,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, blinking back tears.

“Jack, look at me,” He didn’t. “Jack,” he urged. Jack wiped away stray tears before he slowly looked up at him.

“You’re not ‘supposed’ to feel a certain way about things, nothing you feel is invalid,” Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the way he’d phrased it.

“What are you, a fuckin’ psychiatrist?” Jack questioned, a sad smile gracing his features.

“No, I’m your friend and I’m trying to help you,” Mark replied, noting Jack’s attempts to change the subject.

“Well, you can’t. This is how I am and this is how I’ve always been,” Jack replied bitterly.

“Jack-”

“No, Mark, just... Just stop. It doesn’t matter how many ‘nice words’ you throw my way, it’s not going to take away from this part of myself that feels my throat close up for no goddamn reason. I’m supposed to be normal, I’m supposed to be able to handle life properly. I’m not, I’m…” he trailed off, feeling the tears start to flow freely. Mark sat there silently, just observing him.

“I just… I want to be better than this. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want this. I want to be _normal._ I want to be able to go outside for _twenty_ fucking minutes without feeling like I’m gonna throw up from this nervous energy inside me. I want to be able to create content without giving a shit about what people think. I want to be myself fully and openly without feeling like I have to apologize for it,” Jack continued to ramble, his breath hitching on the last sentence. He felt his body start to shake as his eyes clouded with tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Mark said, in a whisper as if he’d make it worse if he was any louder. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” he continued, hoping his words would soothe Jack even a little. This pattern continued for a good ten minutes as Jack got his bearings. “That’s right, deep breaths,” his friend encouraged.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, voice cracking.

“You haven’t done anything you have to apologize for, it’s okay,” Jack chanced a look at him and noticed tear stains on his cheeks.

“I made you cry,” Mark’s brows furrowed.

“I cry easily, that’s not your fault,” he explained with a short chuckle. Jack offered him a weak smile.

“Thank you,” Jack muttered. Mark grinned at him like he’d hung the sun in the sky.

“Anytime,” Mark replied softly, but with a serious edge like he was making a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want me to continue this - like Jack going to the convention mentioned and Mark/his friends helping him with his anxiety -then please let me know!


	2. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this at 4am. Why must inspiration come at such strange times?

Jack felt his eyes slowly flutter open as the plane rumbled to a stop, looking out his window to see the ground. Finally, they’d arrived. The heavy crowd of people on the plane started to pile out, Jack opting to hang back until the majority had left.

As he stepped off, he noticed a sign that looks like it was a last-minute effort with “IRISH CHAUFFEUR” written on it. He shook his head and headed over to said sign, which is, of course, being held by an American goober.

Jack couldn't help the fond smile that crept onto his face as he greeted him, “Hey dork.”

“It is me, your chauffeur,” Mark took a dramatic bow and came back up waggling his eyebrows. Jack snorted at his shenanigans.

“Oh fiddly dee, chauffeur, take me to ta’ hotel, chop chop!” Jack played along with a lighthearted chuckle. Mark placed the sign on the ground and before Jack knows it he’s being swept up into a hug. Relaxing into it, he wrapped his arms around him and gave him a couple of pats on the back before they pulled back.

“Nice to see you again,” Mark stated with a warm smile, picking up the sign as they walked through the airport and to the car. As they arrived, Mark jogged to the passenger’s side and opened it with dramatic flair, one hand behind his back as he bowed. Jack rolled his eyes and slipped into the seat, Mark closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. “Septiplier away!” The car went silent and they both looked at each other for a long moment before bursting out in laughter.

\-----------------------------------------------

“You piece of cock-sucking ass-eating piss-drinking shit!” Mark spewed out a string of peculiar profanities and Jack raised a brow in question.

“What’s wrong, Markimoo? Upset that you died?” he teased, directing his character into the gun shop to buy more ammo.

“You Irish piece of shit,” Mark grumbled, pouting like a child.

“Don’t insult my country, you dick,” Jack bit with a laugh.

“Do you think that your increased intake of potatoes increases your gaming skills?” the faux redhead pondered. Jack slowly turns his head toward him, squinting.

“You racist fuck,” he replied, running toward Mark with a bazooka out, aiming it straight at him.

“No, wait, Jack, let’s talk about this- Damn it!” The Irishman just sticks out his tongue, receiving a scowl in response.

\-----------------------------------------------

“Booper Dooper, time to go!” Mark called. Jack whined at him but saved his progress on the game he ~~stole~~ borrowed from Mark. He hauled himself up from his spot on the couch and grabbed his bag, heading to the doorway. Then he noticed his luggage wasn’t where he left it.

“Wait, where’s my suitcase?” Jack asked, a familiar feeling bubbling up in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I put it in the trunk,” Mark explained, flashing a smile. Jack felt the tension melt out of his shoulders.

“Alright, good, good,” he replied, following close behind as Mark lead them to the car. They both hopped in and then they were off. The ride was mostly quiet, besides from some small talk, before Mark piped up.

“Hey, so, you gonna be alright?” Mark asked, glancing toward him. Jack narrowed his eyes, looking confused. “At the convention,” he clarified. Jack just raised a brow at him. “Y’know, with your anxiety?”

“Oh,” Jack paused for a moment, considering his words. “Probably,” he answered, trying to sound convincing.

“Alright,” Mark responded, obviously not convinced. “Just remember, your mental health is more important than this convention, so if you need to take a break at all, let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack agreed weakly. Mark eyed him a couple of times as he drove, but made no move to push the topic any further, much to Jack’s relief.

\-----------------------------------------------

“We’re here,” Mark announced, climbing out of the seat to retrieve Jack’s luggage from the trunk. Jack followed suit, swinging his bag over his shoulder. They both got their keys from the reception desk, but Mark followed Jack up to his room so that he wouldn’t have to haul his luggage around by himself. After they arrived at the door labeled 306, they parted ways. It wasn’t like Mark was very far, he was only down the hall in room ‘309.’

As he closed the door behind him, he settled against it, just taking it all in. The hotel smelled of fresh linen and lemon-scented disinfectant. Clean, but somehow stale. He laid down on the bed, planning on simply testing the mattress. Yet, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

Jack woke up several hours later to the warm hues of the sunset filtering through the curtains. He sighed and stayed there for a moment, listening to the sounds of traffic below and muffled conversations in the room beside him. Sitting up, he decided it was as good a time as any to put away his things.

After the vaguely tiring task, he sat on his bed where he’d stationed his laptop and checked his social media accounts. All was well and he noted a tweet from Mark from a couple of hours ago, presumably from when he had just gotten into his hotel room. He decided he might as well send one out as well, as he didn’t want his fans to worry that something had happened.

“Arrived at the hotel a couple of hours ago, but passed out almost as soon as I got in!”

He snickered at some of the responses and wound up watching YouTube videos. He got so caught up in it, that he hadn’t realized how dark it was outside. Checking the time, he realized it was probably a good time to go to sleep. Jack went through his bedtime routine and snuggled into bed. His eyes closed and he felt himself drift off.

That is, until he was rudely awakened by his anxiety only two hours later. Feeling groggy and disoriented, he grumbled as he raked a hand through his hair. Not again. His eyelids felt so heavy, but something inside him was screaming at him, just begging to get out. Jack didn’t know why, but for some reason, he’d wake up because he had to pee or something along those lines, and then his anxiety would flare up.

Tossing and turning, he attempted to find some angle that would take away from this feeling in his chest. He felt tears prick at his eyes and quickly blinked them away. After an hour of this, he had an idea. A bad one, probably, as most of them seem to be, but an idea nonetheless.

He knocked on the door, once, and waited. No response. He knocked a second time, louder this time. Jack heard shuffling from somewhere in the room and waited. Roughly a minute later, Mark Fischbach slowly opened the door, bleary-eyed and obviously having just woken up. His hair was sticking up strangely and his eyes were squinting, unable to focus without his glasses.

“Jack?” Mark mumbled, looking confused. “What’s up?” he asked with a yawn. Jack suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He’d woken him up just because he couldn’t sleep. Just as he was retreating into his mind, Mark pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” Jack mumbled, walking inside after Mark had moved to the side in a gesture of ‘come in.’ He sat on the chair next to the TV, hands folded in his lap. The rich baritone of Mark’s tired laugh filled the room.

“You look like a kid that’s just been told off for stealing a cookie,” Mark gave him a smile and sat in the seat next to him. “What’s wrong?” he prompted.

“Can’t sleep,” Jack replied with a heavy sigh. Mark gave a little nod at the information and looked like he was considering something.

“Is it your anxiety?” Mark continued, looking at Jack for confirmation. Jack looked away, seemingly interested in the pattern of the chair’s fabric.

After a pregnant pause, he admitted, “Yeah,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Jack answered honestly. Mark seemed to understand, and a long silence stretched out between them.

“Do you want to stay in here? You can have the bed,” Mark offered. Immediately, Jack was ready to fight.

“No, I’ll just take the couch,” he returned.

“No, really, you can have the bed, I don’t mind,” Mark urged.

“I woke you up at 3am, you’re taking the bed,” Jack countered.

“Yeah, but you haven’t been able to sleep, so you take the bed,” Mark encouraged.

“I’m taking the couch,” Jack firmly stated, going to the cupboard to grab the spare comforter and a pillow. He heard Mark sigh exasperatedly, but he helped him get the makeshift bed made. Mark grumbled under his breath as he made his way to the bed, making Jack let out a short laugh. “Goodnight, Mark,” he said.

“Goodnight, dork,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more (well, possibly only one, somehow I have a bad feeling that it'll evolve into something more) chapter, so look forward to that!


	3. Fatigue

Jack woke up to a loud thud. He shot up, head darting around to find the source of the sound. Peeking from his spot on the couch, he noted a toned leg sticking out from behind the bed. “Mark?” he tried. All he heard was a groan. “You alright there, buddy?” Jack got up from the couch and traipsed over to Mark’s place on the floor. “Did you… Did you fall out of bed?” Mark breathed out through his nose and it was all the confirmation Jack needed before he doubled over in laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Mark complained, voice muffled.

“You fucking idiot, oh my god,” Jack managed, wrapping his arms around his already sore sides. Mark’s head flopped over to face him and gave him a death glare. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” Jack reached down a hand to help Mark up, which he took, following a few grumbles.

“Guess it’s con time,” Mark blinked his drowsiness away, plodding over to the dresser to collect a fresh t-shirt and jeans.

“I’ll leave you to get changed,” Mark glanced over and gave him a wave as he exited the room.

Once they were both dressed and ready to go, they met up in the hallway and took an elevator to the convention floor. Making their way through, the two eventually made it to the meetup room they’d be occupying for most of the day. Soon enough, fans flooded in and they started to greet fans.

\-----------------------------------------------

They were only a quarter way through the meetup and Jack was already tired. Not in a physical form you could see, but from the tension in his shoulders, the beating of his heart, the thoughts flashing through his mind. He loved meeting his fans, of course, but it was mentally and emotionally exhausting.

Mark seemed to pick up on it as he told the crowd that they were going to take a lunch break. They waved as they left the crowded space and got out into the open area of the food court.

“You alright?” Mark asked. Jack wondered how many times Mark had asked him that during this trip alone, but gave a tired nod. They sat at a sushi place and made small talk as they waited for the food to arrive. Until they caught the gaze of a small, excited child. He rushed over to them, stars in his eyes as he squealed delightedly.

“Mark, Jack!” he shrieked, bouncing up and down. Jack plastered a smile on his face, even with how worn out he was.

“Hey buddy, what’s your name?” he asked, gaze flickering towards two adults - his parents, he supposed - coming over with a distressed look on her face.

“My name’s Jeremiah,” the boy replied, suddenly seeming very shy. The woman rushing over looked flustered and immediately was spewing out apologies.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she said, quietly chiding her child.

“It’s alright, we have a couple of minutes to spare,” Jack lied, not really feeling up to it but not wanting to disappoint the youth. The boy brightened and tugged on his mother’s leg, begging to take a photo with him and Mark. It took some convincing, but the mother caved and whipped her phone. Mark and Jack posed on either side of the kid and then gave him a hug. The boy left soon after, the whirlwind of energy going with him.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, resting his head on the table.

“Just can’t get a break, can ya?” Mark remarked with a chuckle, pitying him. Jack hummed in agreement, his head laid on the cold surface until their sushi arrived. Although the waitress gave him a weird look, he merely brushed it off. Jack was out of it as they ate lunch, just wanting to take a long nap.

\-----------------------------------------------

The rest of the meetup went well, besides from the handful of fans that asked him if he was okay - in return he hardened the happy mask he wore in the hopes no one would catch on. He spotted Mark eyeing him every now and then, the gesture strangely comforting.

When the meetup had ended, Jack made a beeline for his room, Mark trailing behind, only to stop at his door.

“Hey Jack,” he called. Jack spun on his heel, turning to him.

“What’s up?”

“Just… I’m here if you need me, alright?” Mark stated. Jack gave him a small smile and headed to his room.

“Thanks, Mark,” he replied as he opened the door. There was no reply, but he didn’t need one. Jack dragged his body to the bed and flopped onto it, feeling severely drained from the day’s events. His eyelids closed like they were being held down by weights. Jack groaned quietly and let the feeling wash over him, slowly enveloping his entire body.

\-----------------------------------------------

Jack woke up, slowly, taking his time to get oriented. There was a buzzing sound from beside him and he felt his body jolt in surprise. Hauling his body over to face the sound, he felt around on the bed until he hit his phone. Jack blinked his eyes slowly, trying to get them to focus. He unlocked his phone and saw he had several unread messages from Mark.

_“hey nerd are you up yet”_  
“i guess not”  
“well anyway when you see this let me know if you’d be up for hanging out”  
“i have an idea but its a surprise” 

Jack raised a brow at the last message but typed out a response regardless. It took longer than usual, his fingers continuously hitting the wrong button.

**_“sure markimoo but i just woke up so give me a sec”_ **

He dragged himself out of bed and changed into comfier clothes, stretching before he headed to Mark’s room.

“Hellooo, are there any goobers home?” Jack called, listening for movement.

“Nope, only a super manly guy with plus ten biceps,” Mark hollered from behind the door, swinging it open to reveal himself.

Jack got straight to the point, “What’s this ‘surprise’ you mentioned?”

“Shush, you’ll see,” Mark answered, grabbing his phone before he locked the door behind him. They took the elevator for the second time that day and Mark led them outside, walking along an unfamiliar path with confidence.

“Where on earth are you taking me?” Jack questioned. Mark stayed silent, choosing to just smile goofily at him instead. The pair walked for a solid twenty minutes until Mark stopped in front of a small cafe. He gestured for Jack to follow with a jerk of his head.

Inside of the cafe, it was quiet and cosy. Soft electronic music was playing and the smell of baked goods through the building. Jack raised a brow at Mark as he led them to a booth in the corner of the store. As they sat down, Jack observed that the chairs were very soft, the type you could melt into.

A waitress by the name of ‘Natasha’ came over with a pad in hand and cheerfully asked them for their orders. Jack felt panic rising up like bile in his throat and tried to say something but his mouth just kept opening and closing uselessly.

“Two coffees, a chocolate chip cookie, and a caramel slice,” Mark’s smooth baritone requested. Jack stared at him, baffled as he rattled off the order like it was something he said every day. Natasha nodded as she wrote it down and left. Finally, Mark met his gaze.

“What just happened?” Jack questioned. Mark laughed fondly, shooting him a friendly smile.

“You looked like you were about to throw up, so I figured it might be easier if I ordered for you,” Mark explained, but then his face fell, “Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t even ask. I didn’t overstep any boundaries, did I?” He looked so genuinely distressed that it broke Jack’s heart.

“No, no, it’s fine, really. I appreciate it,” Jack rambled, making sure he knew it was okay. He was quiet for a few moments before he spoke up, “Thank you, honestly.” Mark instantly perked up, relaxing his shoulders.

The two talked about YouTube and weird meetup moments from the day and generally had a good time. This was nice. Because of the cafe being out of the way, it meant that it wouldn’t be filled with customers. The waitress was kind and the few other people that were in there were too wrapped up in their own little worlds to notice them.

Mark must have done a lot of research to find a nice place like this, and the thought of it made his heart swell. He felt so lucky to have such an understanding and helpful friend in his life. Then, of course, he started crying. They were making a joke about a glitch in a game when Mark glanced at him and saw the tears.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong?” Mark cooed, placing his hand on Jack’s back.

“It’s fine, I’m just emotional, I guess,” Jack reassured, giggling. Mark looked confused, unsure if Jack was crying or laughing at this point. “It’s just… It’s really nice to have a friend like you who’s willing to help me out like this,” he clarified. He watched as Mark scooted closer and wrapped his arms around him. The tears flowed freely and he returned the hug.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jackaboy, even if I can’t be there physically,” Mark vowed before pulling back from the hug. He kept his hand rested on Jack’s shoulder as if to reassure him that he wasn’t going anywhere. Jack smiled at him, Mark’s words strengthening his resolve. He’d get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end of the story. Thank you for coming along on this anxiety-ridden journey with me, it was a good fic to get me back into writing!


End file.
